


Even Heroes Have to Take Sick Days

by Pineprin137



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Brother sick on brother, Caring Jody, Gentle Wincest, Graphic Depictions of Illness, Just...affection, No Sex, Not sexy. At all, Poor Miserable Winchesters, Sick Character, Sick Dean Winchester, Sick Sam Winchester, Sick in public, Sickfic, Surrogate Mom, Whump, Yech., big time, no sexy stuff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-08
Updated: 2019-10-19
Packaged: 2020-08-11 20:37:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,825
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20159737
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pineprin137/pseuds/Pineprin137
Summary: Everything went to shit halfway to Billings, Montana...





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> WARNING: Lots.Of.Vomit.   
Also, this fic contains gentle Wincest, i.e. no sex, no kissing (on the lips), no groping. 
> 
> You have been warned!

Everything went to shit halfway to Billings, Montana.

The boys were heading to a ranch that had reported six deaths in the last month. The deaths weren’t that unusual, a few equipment malfunctions, one poisoning, and a heart attack, but the time between them was a little suspicious. The deaths had occurred every other day which meant if the pattern held, someone was slated to die tomorrow. 

Sam had fallen asleep about an hour ago, lulled by the warm sunshine and fresh air. Dean had one arm hanging out the window while tapping the beat on Baby’s steering wheel. The music was quiet enough that Sam could nap yet still loud enough that Dean wouldn’t die of boredom.

Nebraska was vast and empty. The only scenery it offered being dusty roads and far off bluffs. They were supposed to meet up with Jody in Rapid City and then continue to Billings. 

Dean yawned before looking over to check on Sam.

They had driven- well, _ Dean _ had driven- a total of fourteen hours yesterday, only making a quick stop at the bunker to change out their clothes and pick up a few more things before heading back out on the road.

That was almost seven hours ago.

Dean had only managed a two-hour nap before Sam wanted to switch again so he could check out the ranch and look up any other deaths nearby. His eyes had been itchy, his head pounding, and his stomach grumbling, but eventually Dean gave in to his brother's request. Chuck knows he was powerless to Sammy's puppy dog eyes. 

Pulling Baby into a gas station, he eased up to the pump the got out to stretch his tense muscles. After he set his girl up with the Premium nozzle, Dean headed inside. He barely gave the cashier a nod, heading straight for the meds. He grabbed one bottle each of migraine relief and regular-strength painkillers and a bottle of Pepto. Then, he went around the corner in search of crackers... which he found on the bottom shelf. 

Dean rolled his eyes, wincing at the sharp pain that followed, and slowly lowered himself into a crouch. His stomach protested the awkward position so he quickly grabbed a box of saltines then stood back up. With that taken care of, Dean walked over to the last aisle to get the last item he needed.

The aisle was empty of other customers so Dean allowed himself a brief moment of comfort. He rested one hand on his sour stomach, rubbing gently to try to ease the uncomfortable churning beneath his palm.

He spent a few minutes perusing all of the colorful options until he finally located the one he was looking for. Sammy would be beyond pissed if he left without buying more condoms.

Hurrying up to the counter, Dean left his purchases with the perky cashier and speed-walked to the Men’s Room. 

The door latch barely worked, but Dean didn’t care. He had one goal: make it to the john before he ended up hurling all over the floor.

Luckily, the last person hadn't put the seat back down so all Dean had to do was slap one hand against the wall to hold himself up. Only then did he finally give in to the nausea that had been looming since he and Sam stopped for lunch two hours back.

Dean belched once, dipped his head lower as a stream of black coffee and what was once a cheeseburger flowed from his mouth. He panted for a moment before the next gush. Head throbbing in time with each forceful heave, Dean clenched his eyes shut against the image of his lunch in a disgusting gas station toilet bowl. 

Once it was over, he stood back up and wiped his mouth on the back of his wrist. He quickly blew his nose then deposited the crumpled toilet paper into the bowl before flushing and walking over to the sink. It was dingy and had questionable stains, but the water was thankfully clean. He rinsed his mouth until the sour taste was manageable then splashed a handful on his face to wash away the sweat.

When he caught a glimpse of himself in the blackened mirror, Dean was honestly shocked his brother hadn’t realized how bad off he was. 

As soon as Dean exited the shoddy bathroom, he desperately wished he had grabbed his sunglasses before leaving the car. The sunlight coming in through the window aggravated his headache to the point that he would have puked if he had anything left. He clenched his jaw and took a few deep breaths before fumbling open one of the glass doors and grabbing a bottle of lemon-lime soda. Dean couldn’t remember the last time he drank citrus anything, but he knew it was a bad idea to take the migraine meds on an empty stomach.

Clenching the neck of the plastic bottle tightly in his hand, he began the long walk back to the register. Each time the sole of his boots met the peeling linoleum, the action sent a matching jolt behind his eyes. He felt like such utter crap at that moment that all he wanted to do was lie down on the floor and sleep, but _as always_, he had to push aside his pain to get the job done.

The cashier looked a little hesitant when Dean walked up to the counter and when he suddenly turned away to stifle a gag into his fist, she emitted a loud squeak. He gripped the plastic-topped formica so hard it left an indent in his palm, but he regained control. 

Once he'd righted himself, the young girl quickly Dean him up. She offered him a sad smile and whispered some pleasantry, but Dean was too busy fighting the pain in his skull to do anything more than thrust a card at her and snatch the bag. 

As Dean approached the car, he found Sam still asleep. He glared at his brother’s floppy hair and attempted to put the nozzle back on the holder. The scrape of metal against metal made him drop the bag and dig his blunt nails into his scalp. He backed into the side of the car then turned around so he could rest his head on her roof.

He placed his arms down on either side of his head, buried his hands in his short hair. Maybe if he pulled hard enough, his whole head would detach and the agony would end.

Unfortunately, the excruciating pain only made his belly flip and he stumbled two steps away so he could cough up a mouthful of bile into a conveniently-located trash can. With strings of sick still hanging from his lips, Dean sat down roughly on the pavement. 

He leaned his head back against the rear door, felt around for the dropped bag. It took him three tries to unscrew the cap and dump two small capsules into his hand. Next, he gripped the bottle of soda and twisted to open it. Dean’s hiss echoed the plastic bottle when the seal finally broke and carbonation escaped. He popped the pills into his mouth and chugged half of the soda. Probably not the best idea with an upset stomach, but Dean was too desperate to wait for little tiny sips to settle.

He heard the unmistakable squeak of Baby’s doors just as carbonated vomit started to rise in his throat. 

Dean leaned to the side in preparation, fighting to keep the medicine down. He gagged into his fist, gritted his teeth and finally managed to swallow the mouthful of sour foam back down. He took another small sip to get rid of the aftertaste and then brought a hand up to rub between his eyebrows. 

“Dean?” Sam called out as he walked around the back of the car. He halted when he spotted his brother sitting against the car. “Dean? Why are you on the ground?” 

He crouched down and laid a hand on Dean’s shoulder, asked him, “Are you alright?”

Dean tried to shake his head so he wouldn’t have to open his mouth. The action was too much though and he ended up with his head over his boots as he threw up the soda.

As soon as Sam saw Dean jerk forward, the younger Winchester stepped back while maintaining his hold on his brother’s shoulder.

“Okay. I’m gonna go with no. Are you sick?” 

Dean’s stomach contracted, sending up another splash of fizzy puke.

His head screamed at him, the sounds of his sickness and his brother’s voice too loud and grating to his sensitive ears. He groaned and fisted Sam’s jeans to try and shut him up. But when that didn’t work, he brought his hands up to cover his ears as he fought the tears threatening to spill into the puddle of sick. 

“Oh. Shit, Dean. Why didn’t you tell me it was a migraine?” Sam lowered his voice and leaned to block the sunlight. 

_Because I can’t,_ Dean thought. 

“Hang on,” Sam said, placing a kiss to the top of his head before carefully gathering the supplies scattered on the ground.

He stepped around his brother so he could open the door, wincing in sympathy when the hinges creaked, and deposited Dean’s purchases on the seat. He took the pop bottle from Dean’s hand and tossed that in as well before squatting back down to ask him, “Okay, Dean. Front or back?” 

Dean mumbled, _“Front.”_

Sam carded his fingers through his brother’s hair. “Are you sure you don’t want to try lying down in the back?” 

Dean squinted up at him and shook his head before quietly repeating his answer, “_Front._” 

The younger man held up his hands in surrender. “Okay. Front it is.”

He then eased a hand around his brother's shoulders and carefully helped him up. As soon as they were standing though, Dean buried his face in Sam’s chest. The sunlight was blinding and there was a glare from a nearby pump shining in his eyes. 

“Easy does it. Almost there, ” Sam reassured him as they walked around the car.

He helped Dean into the passenger seat, closed the door only part of the way.

With his brother situated, Sam opened the trunk to grab the small bucket they kept for emergencies as well as a clean tee-shirt and a pair of socks from Dean’s duffle. He also took a few minutes to send a text to Jody informing her they would be a little late getting to Rapid City. 

While his brother dug around in the trunk, Dean fished around in the glovebox for his sunglasses.

Once the sunlight was dimmed, he grabbed the bottle of Pepto, opened it, and took a swig straight from the bottle. The chalky taste was less than pleasant but hopefully, it would settle his stomach enough that he could sleep until they arrived at the meet-up.

Dean flinched when a large hand unexpectedly grabbed his ankle. 

“Shh. Dean, it’s just me. I brought you some clean clothes from the trunk.” 

Sam ran a hand up and down his brother's leg to soothe him before continuing to unlace his soiled boots. He removed them one at a time and placed them in a separate plastic bag then pulled off Dean’s socks and eased his shirt over his head.

The sight of his big brother sitting there in just a pair of ripped jeans caused Sam’s limp cock to perk up. However, when Dean whimpered and grabbed for him, Sam snapped out of it and assisted in putting on the clean tee-shirt and socks. The boots would have to stay off until Sam had a chance to properly clean the puke off of them. 

With his sick brother sorted, Sam eased the door shut as softly as possible and took care of the car. He returned the nozzle to the pump, screwed the gas cap back on and made sure to grab the receipt.

Inside the car, Dean let out a sigh of relief and closed his eyes as he melted into the soft leather seat. He felt ten times better being in clean clothes and at least for now, the anti-emetic seemed to be calming his upset stomach. His head still hurt like a bitch thanks to throwing up the pills, but sleep would help.

When Sam slid behind the wheel, he let Dean get comfortable curled up with his head in his lap before he finally turned the car on and pulled out.

Thankfully, Dean slept the rest of the way and Sam was able to contact Jody to figure out their next move. After briefly discussing Dean's condition, the pair decided to forgo the original chosen spot on the outskirts of town in favor of grabbing a quick dinner.

Sam eased the Impala into the lot, parked next to Jody’s Jeep. She climbed out and gave Sam a wave, withholding her usual greeting. Sam had explained Dean's migraine earlier so he wasn't surprised. Although he doubted Dean would be ready to eat anything but crackers when he woke up, Sam and Jody both needed food before getting back on the road. 

After he killed the engine, Sam stroked his brother’s cheek to try and wake him. The elder Winchester mumbled in his sleep, snuggled further into Sam. Sam chuckled and decided to try a different tactic. 

“Dean... Hey, sleepyhead. Time to wake up.” He picked up one of Dean’s hands and kissed his palm. That did it. One green eye opened to look up at him before Dean smiled and yawned. Sam grinned down at him and filled him in on what they were doing there. 

“Jody’s waiting for us. I know you’re probably not hungry, but Jody and I need something to eat before we head out. Do you wanna come in?” 

Dean nodded and wiped a hand down his face, slowly easing himself up with Sam’s help. Sam cupped Dean’s cheek and peered into his face.

“How are you feeling?” 

He shrugged, “Okay. Not great. Still a little off. Head isn’t as bad though.” 

Sam stroked his thumb along Dean’s jaw and slid his hand into the one resting on Dean’s lap. He squeezed once.

“Just take it easy. No need to rush.” 

Sam offered one more affectionate squeeze then got out. He gave Jody a quick hug before opening up the passenger door and helping the sick man out.

Dean leaned into him. Sam felt the movement of his throat when he swallowed. “You okay?” he asked. 

“Yeah. Just give me a minute.” 

Dean’s response was mumbled into Sam’s shirt so Jody didn’t hear him. She looked at Sam with a question in her eyes. The younger Winchester nodded at the door to let her know she should go in, they just needed a minute. She bobbed her head once then turned and walked into the restaurant. Sam returned his gaze to his brother. 

“It’s just us now, Dean. Be honest, are you really okay to go inside?” 

Dean stepped back out of his embrace before answering, “Yeah. I’m actually a little hungry.”

Sam’s surprise must have shown on his face because Dean laughed. 

“C’ mon, Sammy. I wanna say hi to Jody.” 

The restaurant was a popular one, full of families and the subtle thump of music in the background. Sam and Jody had tried to find a quiet place to eat, but most of the town was closed due to flooding. It was still early May so the excess of melting snow and unexpected rainfall had caused damage to a lot of the buildings and houses in town. Their only dining options had been a Mexican eatery down the street and this place. Sam knew if he had any chance of convincing his brother to eat something, spicy Mexican was not the way to go. 

The boys joined Jody at a table near the back, Dean hugging her while Sam slid into the booth.

He didn’t want to trap his brother on the inside just in case Dean needed to flee to the restroom, which was -- Sam sat up and surveyed the walls for a sign -- directly behind their booth. He caught the sheriff’s eye, mouthed _thank you_. Jody just smiled and ducked her head down to read the menu.

Sam glanced over the glossy pages until he found the side dishes. He breathed a sigh of relief when he spotted mashed potatoes on the list. Those should be gentle on a sensitive stomach. 

Sam draped his arm across his brother’s shoulders and guided the other man over to lean on him. The elder Winchester happily rested his head on Sam’s shoulder, fighting to keep his eyes open. He was suddenly so tired.

His gut was calm for the moment, even giving a hopeful grumble when Sam mentioned mashed potatoes. His headache was practically gone as well. Dean wasn’t sure if it was the long hours spent driving or the aftermath of getting violently sick, but his body was officially exhausted. 

“It’s okay, Dean. You can sleep if you need to. I’ll wake you up when it’s time to go.”

Dean smothered a wide yawn against Sam’s arm just as the waitress walked up to take their order. 

“Long day, hun?” she asked him with a wink. 

He blushed and ducked his head down. Sam chuckled at his usually flirtatious brother’s sudden shyness.

The waitress just laughed before asking, “What can I get for you folks?” 

Jody spoke up first, “Can I get a Smoky Burnout with a side of fries? Root beer to drink, please.” 

“Sure thing, hun.” She turned towards the brothers and addressed Sam, “And for you, handsome?” 

Sam smiled at her then rattled off his order as well as Dean’s.

“I’ll take a Ranch Chicken Wrap with coleslaw, a side order of mashed potatoes. And a … Hangover to go, please. ”

Dean snorted, but the waitress just smiled and gave a nod. Sam handed her the menu. “Oh, and just water to drink on this side. Thanks.”

He smiled at her and she blushed. She turned away, giggling as she headed back to the kitchen. 

“_The hell is a Hangover?_” Dean mumbled.

“If you feel better later, you can find out,” Sam answered, resting his arm across the top of the booth.

He faced Jody and asked her what she knew about the case while they waited for the waitress to drop off their drinks. After they arrived, Sam quickly guzzled half of his glass of water. Dean managed about two sips. Jody lazily drank her root beer and filled them in on the details she gathered from the officer in Billings.

Having a cop on their side had some major benefits. The main one being open access to the details of the deaths as well as the land’s history and any red flags in the family’s records. 

“Mom and Dad are clean," Jody started, twirling the straw in her glass.

"Dad’s family built the property in 1910 and the sheep ranch has been in business since 1926. The current family, The Carsons, moved there in 2005 to take over after Grandpa passed away.” 

Sam inquired about Grandpa’s cause of death while scanning over the handful of papers she handed him. 

Jody took another sip before she answered his question.

“Well, the official COD is natural causes. He was discovered in the morning and thought to have died in his sleep. However, there was an investigation into the ranch foreman, Mike Whetley, after a rumor arose that he poisoned the old guy over a monetary dispute.” 

Sam set the sheaf of papers down. 

“Huh... The first death was from rat poison-- Do we know which toxin supposedly did Grandpa in?”

The wheels in his head started to turn as he talked with Jody.

It wasn’t unusual for a spirit to lash out and inflict the same injuries that they died from, but the cause of death is typically consistent in those types of hauntings. Their case had too many variations for the deaths to be caused by a simple spirit.

However, if it was a vengeful spirit that would explain the escalation in the degree of violence. The specific details of each cause of death would depend on the personal relationship the person had with the spirit when it was still alive.

When Sam finally turned his attention back to the table, Jody was moaning into her burger and Dean was slowly attempting his small bowl of mashed potatoes. The younger man was especially pleased to see that about half of his brother’s water glass was empty as well.

Sam pushed research and theories to the side, focusing on devouring his wrap and cup of tangy coleslaw. The group passed on dessert when the waitress came back to get their empty plates, but Sam did order a vanilla milkshake to go. His big brother deserved a little treat and vanilla shouldn’t be too hard on his stomach-- should his ailment turn out to be something more than a migraine. Besides, Jody had insisted on a motel that provided fridges so Sam intended to take full advantage. 

Dean’s stomach turned. He set the full spoon back into the bowl and eased one hand onto his belly. He grimaced.

Jody gently reached across the table.

”You okay, kiddo?” 

Sam looked over to see his brother’s pale face. He also seemed to be focusing on taking nice even deep breaths.

The younger Winchester turned towards Jody to ask if she would take the food out to the car. She nodded and grabbed the to-go boxes as well as Dean’s milkshake then got out of the booth.

Sam nudged his brother until he got up as well. Sam quickly stood, faced the other man towards the table in case anything happened.

Dean burped into his fist, swallowed hard. Sam wrapped a loose arm around his brother's waist and guided them over to the men’s room. They had barely made it through the door before Dean gagged and ducked into the first open stall.

Sam followed behind him and crouched down to rub his brother's back while sounds of sickness echoed off the tiled room. 

Dean coughed and leaned forward. Watered-down mashed potatoes sprayed from his mouth and dripped from his nose.

He clung to the seat as his body violently rejected his meager meal. Sam murmured soothing words to him, holding him steady until the heaving turned dry.

He reached over Dean’s head to flush then grabbed some toilet paper and handed it to him. The younger man frowned when he saw his brother’s body start to shake.

There was a muffled sob and then a sniffle as his big brother fought the desire to break down. Dean didn’t like getting sick at home, let alone in a public restroom where anyone could walk in. And the poor guy had been through that at least twice that day. 

Sam rose from the floor then slowly walked over to the sink. He didn’t rush, allowing Dean the few minutes he needed to regain his composure.

Once the sniffling died down, he wet a few paper towels then took them back into the stall. He used one to wipe his brother's face clean of sweat, sick, and tears before gently placing the other on the back of his neck. 

“I’m going to wash my hands and then go talk to Jody. You come out when you’re ready, ‘kay?” Sam wrapped his arms around him, placed a kiss to his temple. 

“_... thanks, ”_ Dean said quietly.

He wasn’t sure he was done yet so he remained kneeling on the floor after Sam exited. While he was waiting, Dean took the opportunity to run through his current list of symptoms.

His head was okay; he was a little dizzy but that was most likely because he was dehydrated. His stomach was still churning though and even the thought of food made him gag. He was sweating profusely, could feel a damp ring around the neck of his tee-shirt. Overall, he felt... awful. 

Jody was sitting in the backseat of the Impala when Sam walked up. The food was nowhere to be seen, so he assumed she put it in the trunk or placed it on the floor. She was leaning back with her eyes closed. He gently knocked on the window. Once she saw who it was, Jody opened the door and stood up. 

“How’s he doing?” she asked.

Sam sighed. “Not great. He got sick again.” 

“Is he... okay?”

It would suck if one of the boys was sick during the hunt, but they could make do. Investigating the farm would be interesting, though. Maybe if they let Dean explore outside, he could just do what he needed to do if it hit him then get back to work? Or they could leave him at the motel-- _try_ to leave him, anyway. Dean would pitch a fit if they benched him.

Jody realized Sam had finally answered her. She asked him to start over. 

“Sorry, Sam. My mind drifted for a minute there. What were you saying?” 

The younger man turned towards her before speaking.

“I’m a little worried that this isn’t just a migraine. I think I may have felt a fever while cleaning him up. And he’s been sleeping more than usual.” 

“Oh. Well... crap.” 

“Exactly--”

Sam paused and looked back to the doors where Dean was coming out. His brother looked like hell.

Dean's skin was still pale, but now had a sheen of sweat as well. He was shivering slightly, one hand resting on his sore abdomen. During the few minutes it took for him to join them at the car, the sick man yawned three times.

He didn’t say anything as he popped the trunk, pulled out his coat, put it on, and sat down in the passenger seat. He crossed his arms over his chest, laid his head back, and closed his eyes. 

Jody watched, _shocked_, but Sam just sighed and resigned himself to the fact that Dean _ was _ coming down with something. He gestured for Jody to get in then grabbed a water bottle from the back before starting the car and pulling back onto the road. 

By the time they pulled into a rest stop two hours later, Dean was groaning in his sleep and sporting a full-blown fever. Sam, whose bladder was the reason they stopped, only paused to make sure his brother was still resting before sprinting for the men’s room. 

The younger Winchester rested his head against the wall, gratefully draining his full bladder. After he shook off, he walked over to the row of sinks to wash his hands and splash some water on his face. He ran damp fingers through his hair then set his hands on the counter and leaned forward, peering at himself in the mirror. 

Truth was, Sam wasn’t feeling so hot himself. The chicken wrap and coleslaw were sitting heavily in his belly and his body felt achy. He couldn’t tell if he was running a fever though, because he always felt slightly warm to the touch.

He breathed in through his nose as sour spit filled his mouth. He spat into the sink, grimacing at the colored slime that had been in him only a moment ago. Sam gagged into his fist, spun toward the stalls, practically falling into one.

His knees hit the floor just as the first rush of vomit spilled from his lips. A disgusting mixture of pale creamy sick filled the bowl as he continued to heave. His eyes watering while his nose ran. 

Dean struggled to open the car door with one hand while he kept the other clapped tightly over his mouth. He ran for the bathroom , shouldering the door open. As he raced for the toilets, he heard someone else throw up.

His gag reflex tried to force more liquid into his mouth, but it was too much and he bent over. Vomit splashed onto the front of his shirt and jeans before dripping onto the floor. He didn’t waste time, just stepped over the puddle and held on to the toilet seat as the few sips of milkshake he had tried to drink came back up. 

_Jesus_, Sam thought as the sounds coming from the next stall turned his stomach. He spat another mouthful of his dinner into the bowl.

His muscles clenched, his back arched, and then suddenly he was violently spewing. Onto the tank, the seat, his hands, the floor-- It was like a faucet got turned on and Sam couldn’t stop it. Tears welled in his eyes as he fought to breathe. 

A small hand cautiously rubbed the younger man's back while the other pulled long, sticky hair away from his face. Sam groaned and let his head fall to the seat.

He switched between panting over the water and burping into his fist as the next wave built. He could feel it gathering, a pressure in his chest that rose until it choked him. He positioned himself back over the water and belched. The faucet turned back on. Sam clenched his eyes shut, flinching when soiled water splashed back onto his face. 

Jody cringed at the younger Winchester’s impressive display of force then eased the hair tie off of her wrist and wrapped it around the hair gathered in her hand. She made sure it was secure then went next door to check on Dean.

Whereas Sam was crouched on the floor, his brother was bent over with his hands gripping the bowl. Jody carefully covered the puddle on the floor with paper towels, then eased up next to him. 

“_Ugh-- God, m-make it stop…_ ” Dean groaned, bile dripping from his lips. 

She rubbed his back as his body continued to painfully heave. He was already empty so all it did was clench his sore muscles. Jody could see his exhausted body was giving out.

Dean's arms shook and his breathing grew staggered. Jody lunged forward, using all of her strength to grasp him around the chest when he sagged. She bent her knees and leaned against the stall, somehow managing to gently guide his limp body to the floor.

She rested her hands on her knees and panted. “Well... shit.” 

Sam gathered lukewarm tap water into his hands and rinsed his mouth as best he could. He was shivering in his damp shirt and desperately wanted to crawl into bed. But, as they were still a few hours away from their destination, he could groan with the realization that he was going to have to share the backseat with his brother while Jody drove.

Normally, he wouldn’t mind a rare cuddle session with Dean, but as they both were currently sick, it was going to suck. 

Jody stuck her head out of the stall. “Uh, Sam? I’m gonna need some help…” 

Sam glanced up at Jody’s reflection in the mirror and frowned. His brother was no longer retching, but he hadn’t come out of the stall either. Which meant…

“_Dean!_” 

Dean could hear a voice in the distance, but he was in too much pain and misery to care. Why couldn’t everyone just leave him the hell alone? His left eye was pried open. He pulled away. Something warm and damp touched his neck. He batted at it.

_“Go ‘way…”_

“Dean? Dean! Hey, hey! Wake up! Dean, can you hear me? _Shit_. Jody, I need you to go to the car. Open the back doors and lay down the towels from the trunk. There’s also a bucket in the front that you can set on the floor.” Sam patted Dean’s cheek again. 

“_F’ck ov._” 

Sam rolled his eyes then grimaced. Carrying his brother was not easy on a good day and today was the worst they’d had in quite a while.

He rose from his knees into a crouch, resting his hand against the stall door when his vision swam. He took a moment to allow things to settle and tried to wake Dean one more time. 

“C’ mon, man. If you don’t get up then I’m going to have to carry you... _bridal style_.” No response. He continued, “Someone could walk in, see us. Might even call you out on it. Call you my bitch.” 

“_... no’... your... b’ tch… my… b’ tch._” 

Sam heaved a sigh of relief. Thank Chuck. Dean was at least conscious again. Every little bit of effort that his brother could supply would help get them to the car that much quicker.

“Okay, let’s get you up.” 

He leaned forward and slid his hands under Dean’s arms, but when he tried to stand, Dean refused.

“Dean-- “

“_No. Too dizzy. Fall._” Dean said before laying his head back against the metal wall. 

“No, you won’t. I’m standing right here. Now c’ mon. Get off the floor.” 

Dull green eyes opened and glared at him. “_Not... me… _”

Sam slowly lowered himself back down. He pulled Dean’s sweaty head to his shoulder. “Dean, I’m okay.”

He pulled back and peered into his brother’s worried eyes. “_Promise_.”

He rested his lips against Dean’s temple then crept back so they could try again. 

While Sam struggled with his brother inside, Jody was busy prepping the car.

She pulled the towels from the trunk and tossed them into the backseat then started the car and pulled around so it was lined up with the end of the sidewalk. She slid the Impala into Park then got out and crawled into the backseat.

Jody made sure the coarse fabric of the towel was tucked into the seat, left another one on the floor in easy reach in case things got messy. The large bucket was transferred to the back then she opened both doors. She considered opening only one, but Jody was pretty sure that after Sam deposited his brother onto the seat, he was going to want to collapse as well. 

As the boys made their way towards the car, Jody was just finishing up rolling all of the windows down. Lord knows as a mother she could handle a lot-- but _two_ grown men vomiting uncontrollably and sweating profusely, stuck in a car without the gift of air conditioning? No, thanks. 

“What do you need me to do?” She called out to Sam when they were about ten feet away.

Dean’s skin had a green tinge to it, but Sam was pouring sweat. The kid’s shirt was soaked through, his hair shiny and flopping in his face where it had come loose from the hair tie. Jody could see actual rivulets of perspiration trailing down his neck and arms. 

“Just… stay. I got ‘im.”

Sam held on to Dean’s arm which was draped over his shoulders and steered him towards the Impala. _So close…_

“_S' mmy... stop… _” Dean panted, black spots teasing at the edge of his vision. 

Sam huffed. “It’s okay, Dean. If you need to get sick, just do it. We’re almost to the car and I’ll help you change after we get in.” 

“_Sam_\--” 

“Seriously, man, it’s fine.” _Just a few more steps…_

“_Not... gonna... ma--_” 

Sam tried to catch Dean’s body as it went limp, but the angle was wrong and they both went down. 

Jody watched Dean’s eyes roll back in his head and then a moment later she lost all visual of the pair. She darted around the car to find Sam on top of his unconscious brother.

She rushed towards them. Unfortunately, the sudden fall had knocked Sam's precarious equilibrium off-kilter.

The younger Winchester struggled through the resulting dizziness, nausea washing over him. He tried to fight it but instinct took over.

Sam planted his hands on the pavement next to Dean’s head and vomited.

_“Oh, Sam… ”_

Jody stood frozen, watching as Sam threw up on his brother’s prone body. She had _definitely_ underestimated just how messy things were going to get... 

“Tow--” Sam was interrupted by another gush of vomit spilling from his lips, “--towel?” 

The spell broke and Jody snapped into action. She hurried over to the backseat and grabbed the ‘easy-access’ towel and the water bottle sitting in the front seat then hurried back to Sam.

“Do you think you’re, uh, done?” Jody wasn’t normally squeamish, but the sight of Sam’s lunch all over his brother was turning her stomach and she had no desire to be next.

Sam shook his head, scrambling off of Dean. He crawled towards the grass and dug his fingers into the dirt as he loosed a large stream of puke into the bushes. 

Jody kept her lips pressed tightly together and zeroed in to focus on the... er... _dirty_... man on the ground. She hovered a hand over Dean's nose, then tipped the water bottle and gently cleaned his face off with the edge of the towel. She carefully wiped down the sides of his head and in his ears. The clothes would have to wait. _Probably be best just to burn them, _Jody thought to herself. 

Another third of the bottle was used to rinse his short hair. She would offer the last bit to his brother once Sam's stomach settled. Speaking of Sam... She supposed she better check on him. 

The younger Winchester was on all fours, painting a fairly large patch of grass and the front of the bushes with mostly digested chicken salad and coleslaw.

Jody saw his back arch and turned away so she didn’t have to see it come out of him. It was an utterly revolting mixture of creamy white with bits of green and orange.

The splash made her cringe while the violent _ hurk_ coming from his abused throat caused her to wince in sympathy. The poor kid sounded about as awful as his brother looked.

Jody would be surprised if either of them managed to get out of bed tomorrow. 

Sam’s stomach cramped again, sending up sour bile. _Finally_, he thought, _It’s about time_. He leaned to the side then dropped onto the- thankfully, still clean --patch of grass next to him. He went to wipe a sleeve beneath his teary eyes but was stopped.

Jody offered him a clean towel in place of his, _ugh_, vomity sleeve. 

“_Thanks _,” he rasped.

The pain that seared his raw throat caused more tears which Jody quickly wiped away. She held out a hand to him and Sam accepted, grateful for the assistance.

He shut his eyes and gripped her shirt tightly in his fist when he stood. The action was so ingrained in him that it took a moment before the embarrassment crept in. 

“_Sorry.” _

“It’s alright, Sam. Take a few minutes if you need. Because unfortunately, I don’t think I can get your brother in the car by myself… ” Jody smiled wryly. Sam nodded and walked over to Dean.

Although Jody had cleaned him up, there was still enough evidence to figure out what had happened. Sam swallowed down guilt along with bile.

He was extremely thankful that his big brother hadn’t been awake for the world’s most disgusting face mask and hoped he could get Dean changed and cleaned up before he realized. Hopefully, his brother would never have to find out. 

It took Jody on one side and Sam on the other, but they finally managed to get Dean into the backseat.

While Sam removed Dean’s second set of clothing that day, Jody filled the bucket with water and hosed down the younger man's awesome display of projectile vomiting.

Sam carefully slid in next to his sleeping brother, slipped an arm around Dean's shoulders. Jody set the once again clean bucket on the floorboards between Sam's feet then closed the doors and got in.

She moved the seat forward, adjusted the mirrors-- _Sorry, Dean_\-- then checked on her passengers. Dean’s head was on Sam’s shoulder, Sam’s cheek lying on top of his brother's head. 

While Jody drove the Impala down the highway, she made a list. Blankets, ice, a clean bathroom and laundromat, soft pillows, ginger ale, crackers, gloves, trash bags, free Wi-fi, TV with a wide variety of movie rentals...

She sighed.

The two men sleeping in the back had saved the world so many times-- Even when they didn’t have to. They deserved days off, and fuck anyone who argued that hunters don’t take sick days.

It was about time someone took care of the Winchesters and Jody was more than happy to be the one to do it. 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jodi does her best to look after the boys while they recover.

Jody sat back in the chair with a sigh. They were _finally_ asleep... 

To anyone who thought it got easier to take care of sick men over sick little boys, well, Jody was calling bullshit.

When she got Dean situated, Sam went down. If she was taking care of Sam, then Dean suddenly needed her. However, in their defense, Jody hadn’t seen anyone that sick... _ever_. 

She glanced over at the bed to check on Sam then rose and walked over to the bathroom where Dean was currently passed out on the floor. Once she verified both brothers were still asleep, she tiptoed back to her post in the corner of the room. The small chair was the furthest away she could get from their germs, while still remaining available if they needed her. 

Glancing at the clock on the nightstand, she sighed, it was almost eight o’clock.

The trio had arrived at the motel around three, Dean light-headed and feverish, while Sam was fighting gallantly to keep his stomach in place.

They’d barely managed to make it to the room before all hell broke loose.

Sam had bolted for the kitchenette sink, holding on for dear life. Dean had made it about three steps into the room before _Boom! _ he was on the ground. Jody had carefully helped Sam over to the bathroom then wet a towel to try and wake Dean. After a few minutes, he’d sat upright, but then he started fighting her.

She'd tried to blot his face with the cool rag and he’d slapped it from her hand. Then, she figured touching him might do it, but when she reached out to him, Dean backed up all the way into the space between the bed and the nightstand-- which was rather impressive for a man his size. The lamp had fallen over when he bumped the table. The sick man had jumped, eyes wild and unfocused.

Thankfully, pretty soon after that, Sam was able to call out to his brother and get him to come into the bathroom. There, they had dozed, wrapped up in each other’s arms. Jody had the reprieve to go out and get something to eat. She’d come back to find them sleeping on the bed closest to the bathroom.

They’d both been lying on their sides-- probably afraid to put any pressure on their tender stomachs. Jody had crawled into the other bed and shut her eyes, trying to get as much sleep as she could. 

She’d been woken up by the rustling of a plastic bag and opened her eyes to see Dean rummaging around for something. 

“Lose something?” she asked. 

He jumped and spun around to face her, “_Jesus_! You scared the hell outta me. Give a guy some warning, would ya?” 

Jodi rose from the bed, walked over to him. “How are you feeling?”

She reached her hand towards his forehead but Dean turned away. 

“I’m fine.” 

She frowned, wondering what had happened to the sweet man who melted under her touch just a few hours ago… 

Dean sat down on the edge of the boys’ bed and gently pushed Sam’s floppy hair out of his face.

“How’s he doing?” 

“He’s been asleep for about two hours. I was planning to wake him up in ten... “ Jodi trailed off as she watched Dean slip into _Bi__g Brother _mode.

He rubbed Sam’s arm until the other man roused and groggily inquired about the reason he was being woken up. 

“_Dean? What is it?_” 

Dean smiled and helped him sit up.

“Time to hydrate. Feel up to-- “ he glanced at the bottle sitting on the nightstand, “-- some Gatorade? Or should we stick with water for now?”

Sam winced and Dean adjusted the pillow so it was propped behind his back instead of lying flat on the mattress. 

Sam rubbed his forehead then closed his eyes before mumbling, “_Gatorade_.” 

Dean wasn’t sure that was a good idea, but he unscrewed the lid anyway, lifted it to his brother's dry lips.

He only allowed Sam two sips then took a swig himself before placing it back on the table.

With his eyes still closed, Sam doesn’t see Dean pick up the trash can. Jodi catches a small tremor in the younger Winchester's body and then the can was in his lap. 

Orange-flavored Gatorade rose in Sam's throat, he groaned. He clenched his lips tightly together and breathed through his nose.

Dean sighed, carding his hand through his brother’s hair. "I know you don’t want to, Sammy, but it’s okay. Just get it out and then we can try the water.” 

Reassured by his big brother’s calm voice, Sam curled over the can and retched. Dean rubbed his back, gritting his teeth to keep his belly from joining the revolt. 

As Jodi watched the scene before her unfold, she was dumbfounded. The Winchesters are a one hell of a well-oiled machine... Dean knew what Sam was going to do before Sam did and Sam blindly listens and obeys Dean's instructions.

Her heart ached thinking about how long they’d been performing that particular song and dance. It was hard to imagine a toddler doing everything for his infant brother but on the other hand, it was easy to see Dean, at any age, moving mountains to care for and keep Sam safe. 

The water stayed down once Sam felt brave enough to try it, and Dean managed to swallow some fever-reducers with two healthy sips of Gatorade. He grimaced as he settled into bed next to his brother and Jodi got worried, but Sam caught her eye.

He chuckled weakly, “He doesn’t like orange.” 

“... oh, ” She said, relaxing against the headboard.

Dean snuggled into Sam, closed his eyes. Sam draped his arm across his brother’s back after pulling the blankets up.

He smiled at Jody. “It’s okay, he’ll still drink it, just prefers the red-- Cherry.” 

She nodded. His eyes slowly closed.

Jody laid there for a few minutes, just watching them fall asleep. It was unusual to see the Winchesters so still, _peaceful, _but she quickly decided it was her new favorite thing. She promised whichever deity was listening that she would watch over them until they were fully recovered.

Saviors of the world or not, Sam and Dean deserved someone who would take care of them, whether the reason was a broken arm or the flu.

**Author's Note:**

> The restaurant is based on a real restaurant called Sickie's Garage located in the NW region of the USA. 
> 
> Please leave kudos if you made it this far!   
This is my first time writing Jody so please be kind when commenting :)


End file.
